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Copper Scent
They came together then, pressing against each other in a clumsy tangle of arms and legs and hands. Cassandra’s heart pounded furiously against her ribs. This was it, this was actually happening. Here and now. Something wild and new and exciting. That was this surging feeling in her gut. Excitement. Wasn’t it? She could feel Simon’s hands trembling against her own. It wasn’t a struggle. They matched each other, strength for strength, even as they bore down on the cot. The sheets felt rough on Cassandra’s bare skin. Nothing could have prepared either of them for this surging burst of passion. None of their training covered this. No one had ever taught either of them how to cope with these feelings, the sudden tumultuous excitement of flesh against flesh. No one had ever been this close before. She’d never let anyone be so near. Every other time someone had grappled with her like this they’d been trying to kill her. Cassandra had known what to do then. But this… to let someone clutch at her this way, and to do it to them in return… She caught a glimpse of Simon’s face as he pressed his head against hers. His eyes gleamed with the same wild, terrified excitement she was feeling. His whole body coursed with energy. He didn’t know what he was doing any more than she did, yet he gave himself over to the passion with an ease she envied. Just like he always did. I want this. Yes, this is good, right? This was the way things should be, right? Her with her fellow deserter, pressed together in a rough embrace on a creaking cot in a grimy clinic in some slum in Venezia. Yes, this was what her life had become. She closed her eyes and suddenly saw herself standing at attention in a military dress uniform in formation with the rest of Gamma Company. A UNSC flag billowing above a pristine parade hall. Another person, another life. Why bother pining after what she’d lost? And as the full cruel absurdity of it all hit her, she took a breath. A hard, copper scent filled her nostrils, one all too familiar. Blood. And not from her, or the cot, or the clinic. From Simon. He reeked of blood. They both smelled of sweat and Venezian dirt, but the scent of blood clung to Simon like a bitter ointment. Some old, but some new as well. He killed someone before coming here. Of course he did. He made Zoey kill someone, and then he killed more people himself. If Simon noticed her stiffen, he didn’t let it stop him. He was on top of her now, breathing heavily and pressing in without a moment’s hesitation. How’d he do it? Shotgun? Knife to the throat? Explosives? Her Spartan mind filled her head with more images than she needed. How much did they pay him for it this time? She killed too. But not like him. She saw the ruins of Philadelphia smoldering in her mind’s eye. How many as he… She felt his face by hers. In a moment he’d be inside her. And that stench of blood… “Cass,” he whispered, already breathing heavily. “Cass, I…” The revulsion filled her just as suddenly as the passion that had taken hold of her a moment ago. No. This wasn’t right. To just lie here and let this creature be on top of her like this. No. Not here. Not like this. “No,” she muttered, pushing back against him even as her mind recoiled in shame at her own thoughts. How could she think that about him, her of all people…? “No. Stop. Get off me.” For a single terrifying instant he didn’t. He kept pressing in, his grip tightening around her shoulders. She saw his eyes again, more wild and desperate than ever, and found her hands coming up, ready to wrap around his throat and… And then he was off her, flopping down off the cot. He caught his fall and crouched on all fours, body still trembling. He glanced up at her, and the look on his face then was more terrifying than any enemy she’d ever faced. But in the next instant it was gone. He picked himself up off the floor and forced one of his usual mocking laughs. “Right, I… a little too much, huh? Got a bit too…” “Not just you,” she said quickly, as gently as she could. “Both of us.” Shame constricted her throat even as she forced a smile. “Right, yeah. Sorry.” He turned away from her quickly and grabbed his clothes. “Yeah. I’ll just get… I’ll be around.” And then he was gone, leaving her alone in the room, mind swirling with shock and guilt. Not believing what had almost happened. What she’d done. But at least the stench of blood was gone. Category:The Weekly Category:The Weekly Winners